Skating girl on wheels glide
With torn-up pants and busy mind
Braking, stopping, bent to find
A bit of trash was left behind.

She picked it up, it was a box
Cheaply made and hastily bought
Smudged and dirty without a top
Used, reused, discarded, dropped

She held the thing and skated to
The nearest trash can which she knew
Ripped the little box in two
Then dropped it in, and off she flew.

The pine trees held a fragrant smell
Cones lay on the sidewalk, hidden well,
If the girl could only tell,
She would have stopped before she fell.

Walking girl of skate-wrought pain
Rubbed her bruise and scrape in vain
Her pants had freely chose to gain
Another ripped up mark of fame.